


Marry Christmas

by plaguewind



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 00:39:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13135524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaguewind/pseuds/plaguewind
Summary: Written for ladybaelish for AG Secret Santa.





	Marry Christmas

**December 15, 2017**

  
  


“So let me get this straight…I’m going to your parent’s house for Christmas but it's on an invite as your boss?”

 

“Right.”

 

Petyr's jaw clenched, his finger anxiously tapping the steering wheel. Clearly Sansa didn't think that this would upset him. “And they don't find it strange that you're inviting your boss over to a  _ family  _ gathering...to stay the night?”

 

She shrugged, her gaze still fixed outside the car window, completely unphased at his agitation. “No. I mean it's not like your  _ just _ my boss. You're a long time friend of the family. And since you don't have any family...”

 

Petyr slammed on the brakes and Sansa's whole body jerked forward, her hands thrusting forward to brace herself on the dash. “Jesus, fuck, Christ Petyr! What the hell did you do that for?”

 

They were on a back road, nothing in front of them and nothing behind them. He wouldn't have put her in any real danger but he was quite frankly ticked off. “Don't you think it's time we tell them?”

 

She sat back in her seat, fixing her hair, and let out a long huff of breath. “You already know we can't yet. You don't know my father, he’ll fucking kill you.”

 

“As a matter of fact, Sweetling, I’ve known your father longer than  _ you  _ have.” Seeing as how Ned Stark had married Petyr's childhood crush and Sansa's mother, Catelyn Tully. “I assure you he won't kill me. Maybe break a few bones but he would have to catch me first.”

 

“You don't get it.”

 

Petyr softened and pulled the car over on the shoulder, throwing it in park. “I do,” he said, turning to face her and taking her hands into his own. “I really, really do but we are never going to change how he feels or how they feel. Are we supposed to hide forever?”

 

“Forever?” Her blue eyes snapped to his own grey-greens and he averted his gaze. Was she surprised that he wanted to be with her for that long? Perhaps she was, as he had never voiced it aloud. Perhaps it was time she knew. 

 

“For however long. Sansa, I love you. You know I do. I don't want to keep us a secret anymore.”

 

“I know...you're right. Just...can we at least wait until the new year? I promise we'll tell them on New Year's but in the event that my parents absolutely blow up I don't want them to remember that it was  _ me _ who ruined their Christmas.”

 

Petyr felt his irritation evaporating and he succumbed to her as was often the case. “Alright. New Year's it is. And not a day later.” She smiled and he leaned over to capture it with his lips and soon a simple peck turned into a burning inferno of lips and tongue and teeth clashing. It still amazed him that after a year he could get so easily aroused by her and that she too could unravel at the mere brush of his lips. She was definitely worth keeping forever. 

 

“Alright, alright,” she said, breaking their kiss and pushing him back. “We’ve gotta get going. So much shopping to do and so little time.”

 

“You sure? You don't want to have a go right here in the car like a couple of horny teenagers?”

 

“I'm not dressed for it.”

 

He started the engine and put the car in drive. “Road head?”

 

“We’re ten minutes from the mall, we don't have time.”

 

“You underestimate yourself, love.” He unzipped his pants with one hand and freed his growing erection. “I'm quite confident in your skills.”

 

She shook her head, grinning, and lowered her mouth. 

  
  
  
  


Later on, after they had split up to shop in secret for one another, Petyr found himself pacing in front of the Jewelers. A small voice in his head was screaming that he was insane, they had only been in a relationship for a year, but a much louder voice seemed to be saying,  _ Do it, you already know you can't imagine your life without her. _ And he couldn't. She was it,  _ the one _ , and he didn't want anyone else. So what if her family didn't approve? 

 

Anyway, she had changed him. He wasn't  _ sleazy Pete _ anymore. Every club he owned was now a hundred percent legitimate, no more shady business, and his wallet couldn't have been fatter. Sansa had helped him accomplish that too. Her family had been somewhat mortified when she had taken the job as his assistant but he paid her well, although he had been somewhat shocked when the beautiful red-head had come to him seeking employment. Fresh out of school with a degree in business she had been finding it somewhat difficult to get a foot in the door at all of the more big name businesses she had dreamed of working for as a starry-eyed student. Luckily with his ventures constantly expanding, Petyr found himself in need of an extra set of hands. Of course it had helped that she had legs for days. 

 

It took a little over a year of working together before their relationship became less professional and more  _ romantic _ . Not that he hadn't thought of it through every single one of those three-hundred and sixty-five days, how could he not have? She was stunning. Tall and curvy in all the right places, not to mention about twenty years younger than he. He had spent many a night in a cold shower after leaving the office. 

 

Sansa was more than beautiful though, she was smart and thoughtful. Above anything she seemed to care for  _ him _ , which in truth no one had for a very long time. It was in the little things she did- remembering his favorite foods, telling him to go home and get sleep when he knew he needed to, and how she bit her bottom lip with worry when he didn't. 

 

The night they had reopened The Mockingbird with it's redesign and new image, the turnout had been somewhat overwhelming. In the early hours of the morning after everyone had cleared out, Sansa had opened a bottle of champagne for Petyr to celebrate. He would never forget the look of surprise on her face when he kissed her that first time or the deep blush that had bathed her cheeks, almost matching her hair. 

 

God, how overwhelming it had been to be sheathed in her warmth that first time. The thing was...it was  _ still  _ wonderful. Still just as consuming. That was what was amazing. In all honesty he had figured once he had her, his lust sated, he would get bored. Fuck and back to business but...that was not the case. Petyr knew he would never, ever tire of her. Which was why he had found himself staring at engagement rings at  for an hour. 

 

“Have you decided on a ring yet, sir?” the man behind the counter asked him. 

 

“Yeah. I want this one,” Petyr answered, tapping the glass over the ring he had been staring at for at least a half an hour. He had perused the others but his eyes kept going back to the same one. Platinum setting with what he guessed to be a 1.00ct diamond. Elegant and quietly confident, understated and yet striking, exactly like his love. 

 

“Ah, the Mappin & Webb Hermione. It's exquisite. It was inspired by the Hermione English Rose, the ultimate symbol of love and beauty.”

 

“Well, it's perfect then. What size is it?”

 

“This particular one is an M but if you like we can resize it for you and have it ready by tomorrow morning.”

 

“No need, like I said it's perfect. Exactly her size.”

 

The man behind the counter smiled professionally. “You have excellent taste, Sir but this ring is £13,500. We would need a deposit of at least £3,000 and a credit card on file. If you like I can show you some beautiful rings that might better suit your budget or-”

 

“Stop right there.” Petyr didn't want to be irritated today, he was in a good mood. The last thing he needed was some salesman treating him like he was poverty stricken. “I'll be paying in full right now. You can charge it to my card.”

 

The man’s jaw seemed to slacken slightly. Apparently not many people walked in and bought £13,500 rings on the spot. “Of course, Sir. Would you like it gift wrapped?”

 

“Nope. Standard black box will be just fine. And can we make this quick?” He glanced over his shoulder to the entrance, keeping an eye out for flaming red hair. “I can't let her see me in her.”

 

“Very well.” A genuine smile that time. “She's a very lucky lady.”

 

Petyr shook his head. “No...no, I'm the lucky one.”

  
  
  


**December 24, 2017. Christmas Eve.**

 

Being back at her parents house for the Holidays was always chaotic, what with a sister and four brothers, then add her aunt Lysa and her cousin Robin, but Sansa loved it. It was noisy and crazy and all of the things a family Christmas should be. She knew Petyr had not had a proper Christmas for a long time, probably not since he was a boy living at the River Run estate with her mom and Lysa. 

 

Sansa's grandfather had taken Petyr in after his parents had passed away and raised him until he was well into his teens. That was back when he had had a crush on her mother, Catelyn. It should have been weird, her being with a man not only old enough to be her father but with one who had once wanted to wed her own mother but it didn't bother her. Not anymore at least. When she had first noticed Petyr  _ noticing _ her, she could not help but wonder if he was looking for a Cat replacement, trying to relive a youthful fantasy. That worry had faded. 

 

Petyr loved her. She was certain he did, without an ounce of doubt, and she was elated that he was spending the Holiday with her family. The only hitch was that since her family didn't know they were in a relationship they wouldn't be able to share a room or show any sort of physical affection for an entire week. Sansa ended up sharing a room with Arya so that her aunt Lysa could have a room for herself.  Robin and Rickon roomed together, Jon and Bran to a room, and since Robb was married, he and his wife Talisa, got the got the guest suite in the basement. Petyr had ended up on the sofa, which he said he was fine with but she knew it was killing his back. When she seen him first thing in the morning, wiggling uncomfortably and trying to stretch out the kinks, she had almost offered to massage his back but her father was in the room reading his paper in his favorite recliner. However, that didn't stop Lysa from offering.

 

“Oh you poor thing. Petyr won't you let me rub your back? I happen to give wonderful massages,” she had cooed.  Lysa had been smitten with him since they were kids but her feelings were entirely one-sided. Sansa wasn't jealous but Lysa's blatant display of her attraction to Petyr could be quite stomach-turning at times. 

 

“No thank you, Lysa. I’ll be fine after a hot shower.”

 

“You don't have to sleep on this awful couch. You're more than welcome to share a bed with me. I fear my sister has an eye for beautiful furniture but apparently not a shred of inclination towards comfort.”

 

“I quite like my couch, Lysa,” Ned grumbled over the top of his newspaper. “Spent many a night on it myself.”

 

Lysa laughed boomingly. “Well, Ned, I believe you have a bit more padding on you than our Petyr. He's so slender...and lean and…” She let her words hang on the air, giving Petyr a look that may have been an attempt at seductive, Sansa wasn't sure, but she was sure if it didn't stop she might vomit. 

 

“Dad, are we exchanging gifts tonight or tomorrow?” Sansa asked her father, mostly in an attempt to steer the conversation away from Petyr's lean, slender body. 

 

“Tomorrow love. Though the boys are dying to open something right now.” All of the Stark children had outgrown their belief in Father Christmas so all of the gifts were already placed under the tree. Sansa believed Ned put them out early just to drive Rickon and Bran, the two youngest Starks, crazy with wondering what was inside them. 

 

Arya entered the living room and plopped on Petyr's makeshift bed, seemingly talking to herself. “I don't care what professor Mordane thinks. She's a tired, old git.”  That's when Sansa noticed the Bluetooth in Arya's ear. She was on the phone.  _ Again. _ Apparently she had a new boyfriend and they had hardly stopped chatting since she had arrived. 

 

Ned shook his head disapprovingly. “I can't stand those things. Every time I go in the market I see some idiot talking to themselves.”

 

Sansa giggled. In all honesty she couldn't stand them either but it was funny how irritated her father became when it came to new technology. He still used a flip phone. 

 

“I think I'm going to go have that shower now,” Petyr said as he stood up from his couch. 

 

Lysa perked up instantly. “I need a shower myself. Would you like to kill two birds with one stone?”

 

Petyr grimaced, shaking his head, and left the room. 

 

“Lysa, for goodness sake there are children present,” Ned said. 

 

“Sansa and Arya are not children, Ned. Stop living in the past you old toot.”

 

He folded his paper and stood up. “I've had enough. Going to see what your sister is cooking up. I'm starving. Sansa, can you go upstairs and the boys that breakfast will be ready soon. Arya, go downstairs and get Robb and Talisa up.”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

Sansa headed up the stairs quickly and her first thought had nothing to do with telling the boys about breakfast. It was about Petyr...naked and in the shower. He had looked so adorable sitting on the sofa in a white shirt and flannel pajama pants, with his salt and peppered hair all tousled from sleep. She could have jumped him right there.

 

When she reached the upstairs bathroom she could hear the water already running from the other side of the door and upon turning the handle was thankful that he had thought to leave it unlocked. She looked up and down the hall, making sure no one was around before slipping inside quickly and quietly. Her pulse was already racing, her lips aching in anticipation. 

 

When she slid the shower door open he didn't look surprised at all to see her standing there. Instead a delicious grin spread out across his face. “Why hello, Sweetling.” His body was lathered in soap, his wet hair plastered to his forehead. 

 

“Have I ever told you how incredibly sexy you look when you're all wet?” she asked, her hand reaching towards his chest. And oh how sexy he was. His body really was slender and lean, not at all an indication of his forty-five years. She ran her fingers through the wet hair of his chest, brushing against a taut nipple, before traveling lower, relishing the feeling of firm abdomen. Just below his cock hung, already heavy and swollen. When she wrapped her fingers around it and pumped a few times his eyes closed and he led his head fall back under the water. 

 

“Mmm...don't start something you can't finish, love.”

 

“But it feels so good.”

 

His head lifted and his grey-green eyes opened, already dark with desire. “Get in here.” His voice sounded smokey and enticing. Sansa could feel her own need beginning to pool between her legs, a light pulsing that would soon turn into an all consuming need if she didn't put a stop to it now. 

 

“And how will I explain my wet hair to everyone when I go back downstairs, hmm?”

 

“Say you took a shower in the bathroom off your parents room.”

 

It was so tempting. He was already so hard in her hand and her body was aching to feel that hardness inside, penetrating. They hardly went a day without sex, unless one of them was unwell, so the whole situation was becoming unbearable. “As much as I want to I think my parents would find it too much of a coincidence that we both come downstairs wet after you were supposed to be showering alone.”

 

He sighed, running his fingers through his wet hair. “Fine but I need to fuck you. I'm  _ going _ to fuck you before this week is over, I can't stand it.”

 

“Awe, poor baby.” She pouted her bottom lip at him. 

 

“You jest but I know you want me just as much as I want you. Now get out of here and let me jerk off. Unless you want to watch, of course.”

 

God, did she? But that would be far too tempting. “No, I gotta go wrangle up the boys for breakfast. Be ready to eat when you get out. Mom's making eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausages...homefries.”

 

“I'm ready to eat  _ something _ but it's not homefries.”

 

A laugh escaped her lips and she had to stifle it. “I love you. See you downstairs.” After a kiss that lingered a bit too long, she left him to his hand and went to do what she initially went upstairs for. 

  
  


After breakfast Catelyn gathered the whole crew together to lay out her plan for the day because of course she had a plan. The women were to work on the Christmas pies and puddings and the men were to...well, be men. Sansa wondered why they got to relax while she had to work? That wasn't fair in Sansa's opinion but that was her mother,  _ an old-fashioned women belong in the kitchen type of lass.  _

 

Once they were done preparing the desserts for Christmas day they would be going out for a late lunch/early dinner at a restaurant, then a stroll through town to look at lights, and it would all be wrapped up with Mass. Sansa really loved spending time with her family but it was rather difficult not being snuggled up together. The previous year their relationship had been so new she hadn't thought too much about it. In fact, he hadn't even come, but now things were different. She wanted to sit next to him on the couch and lean her head on his shoulder when their dad read “The Night Before Christmas”, she wanted to hold his hand as they walked under the lights through town. 

 

He was handling it better than she had expected, dealing with her mom's constant questions about when he was ever going to settle down and have a family, and holding off Lysa, who was a more than willing bride. The woman was relentless and definitely crossed the sexual-harassment line on more than one occasion. Sansa about lost it when they were walking through the park. Lysa had hardly left Petyr's side and when she found herself under the mistletoe, practically yanked him under with her and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips. 

 

“There's more where that came from,” she said before sauntering away from him. 

 

Petyr wiped at his mouth with his sleeve. “I don't think I can take much more if this, Sansa. If she knew I was with you she would back off.”

 

“First of all shhh!” She put her index finger to her lips, nodding toward the rest of the group that was just on the other side of the gazebo they were standing next to. “Second of all, I doubt it would stop her. It's only one more day.”

 

“One more day feels like a lifetime at this point.” He raked his fingers through his hair, frustrated. “I miss you.”

 

“Petyr, I'm right here.”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

Of course she did. She missed him too but she just knew her parents were going to explode when they found out. They had raged when she had started working for him, especially her father.  _ No daughter of mine is working for a damn pimp,  _ he had shouted. She had argued that he wasn't a pimp but he was. Either way she wasn't going to work as one of my  _ his girls _ , she would be his assistant and assist him she did. She had convinced him he could make just as much money legally as he was making illegally by having a sex club upstairs from his downstairs clubs, which was just a front to the unsavory acts that took place on the upper floor.  He still sold sex, in a way, all of his servers and bartenders were scantily clad and hand picked by he and Sansa. Only the most beautiful and exotic women were hired. They could flirt, they could accept tips, but they were no longer to have sex for money.  _ You once told me that people always want what they can't have,  _ she had reminded Petyr.  _ We’ll let them look all they want but they won't be able to have it. _ He'd been apprehensive but decided she had a point and it worked. The customers loved the ladies and loved that they were just out of reach. It kept them coming back for more. 

 

Petyr loved her mind and she loved his, it was only a matter of time before the sparks flying between them ignited a flame. Of course it helped that he was devastatingly attractive. Not the kind of attractive most women liked, muscles and fat square jaws. No, Petyr was all hard lines and angles, beautifully sculpted features. Not to mention his skills in the bedroom. She couldn't believe her mom had passed him up but she was damn sure glad she had. 

 

“One more day,” Sansa whispered again, aching to reach out and wrap her arms around his neck. 

 

He let out a long exhale. “Fine. One more day.”

 

At Mass Sansa made sure she sat beside Petyr. Usually she would be seated between Robb and Arya, as was tradition, but she couldn't miss the opportunity to have her body against his, even if it was just her shoulder. Her mother gave her a rather queer look but otherwise said nothing. Of course Lysa had sat on Petyr's other side. At one point she could have sworn she seen her rubbing the side of his thigh but she couldn't very well rage in the middle of Mass, taking a deep breath to calm herself. It was getting old now. 

 

Afterward they returned to the house and everyone gathered in the family room in their pajamas, sipping hot cocoa, and listening to her father read The Night Before Christmas, another Stark family tradition. Sansa had sat on the floor by her father's feet, as she had done since she was a little girl, her legs crossed under her as she carefully sipped her cocoa so as not to scorch her tongue. It was then she had looked at Petyr to find him staring at her with a lazy smile on his lips. He looked completely relaxed and utterly happy and it made her smile back at him over her cup. 

 

When everyone had gone to bed, and the house was quiet save for the tick-tock of her father's old grandfather clock, and Sansa was absolutely sure Arya was asleep, she slipped out of the bedroom and quietly made her way downstairs to the family room where Petyr was sleeping on the sofa. Except he wasn't sleeping. He was lying down, his head propped up with one hand, the other holding the book he was reading. The lights from the Christmas tree reflected off his reading glasses and for some reason it made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

 

“You're awake,” he said when he realized she had come into the room. 

 

“Yup, was waiting everyone else out.”

 

He closed the book and sat it and his glasses on the end table next to him. He leaned his head back on the arm of the sofa and looked up to her. “And why is that, Sweetling?”

 

A grin spread across her lips as she went to him, lifting the quilt covering his body before straddling him and using it to cover them both up. A rush of need coursed through her at the feeling of his solid form beneath her and it felt amazing. It had been too long. 

 

“Mmmm,” he cooed, his hands immediately reaching for her thighs, running up under the long shirt she was wearing to grip her hips and find the shirt was the  _ only  _ thing she was wearing. The feeling of his fingertips caressing her bare skin was electric, sending a shock of pleasure through her stomach and down between her legs and her body reacted, grinding down onto his already swelling erection. Her eyes fluttered at the feeling of his length against her core and she bit her lip to stave off a moan. They would have to be quiet.

 

“Kiss me,” he whispered, moving a hand behind her neck and pulling her face down to his own. 

 

When their lips met it was with a consuming urgency that escalated more quickly than either of them had intended but could not fight. Sansa ground her center against him, his cock already so, so hard with a need as insistent as her own. She was already wet, had been wet since she lay in bed imagining this moment as she waited for Arya to fall asleep. 

 

“I need you  _ now _ ,” she said, breaking their kiss, and her voice came out desperate and lusty. 

 

“Say no more.” He grinned and tapped her thigh, a hint to lift up so he could shimmy his flannels down and free the object of her desire. 

 

When she sank down onto his length she almost cried out but he quickly brought his hand up to cover her mouth. They had to be quiet and they had to keep the blanket over them. They had to try not to move too much so they didn't attract attention if someone were to wake up. But oh fuck it wasn't easy, not when he felt so good buried inside her, not when every roll of her hips hit just the right spot. 

 

Petyr kept one hand on her ass and the other on her face in case he had to cover her mouth again, all while thrusting his hips upward in time with her own. Sansa could hear his labored breathing as their pleasure escalated and it only further fueled her fire. It was so exciting, riding him in the middle of the family room where anyone could catch them. Between the thought of that and his insistent thrusting beneath her, hitting that spot so wonderfully, her pleasure was escalating quickly. 

 

Then she heard it. They both heard it. A creak in the stairs. Through the doorway Sansa could only make out a dark figure but she was almost positive it was a female. Petyr stopped the motion of his hips but she didn't. “Don't stop.” She was too close and fuck it. In fact something about being caught seemed to intensify her senses and her veins were coursing with electricity. “Oh Petyr, oh fuck-” was all she got out before his hand covered her mouth again and her eyes shut as she came undone in muffled moans on top of him. He came right after her, a grunt even he couldn't contain that was probably just a little too loud for their current circumstances. 

 

After a few moments of heavy breathing Petyr removed his hand from her mouth and she opened her eyes. Whoever had been standing there was gone. 

 

“Who was it?” Petyr asked. 

 

“I'm not sure. Female I think.”

 

“So that narrows it down to Arya, Lysa or...your mother. Are you okay?”

 

Was she okay? At the moment she was still coming down from her orgasm high but she likely wouldn't be okay in the morning when it really had time to hit her. “I don't know.”

 

He pulled her face down and kissed her. This time slower, softer. “Don't get worked up. It's done, can't be undone and no matter what happens it won't be the end of the world.”

 

“Maybe not for you.”

 

“Stop,” he said and he was very serious now. “I love you and they love you too. They may not like your choices but they have to accept them.”

 

“They won't.”

 

“They will if you leave them no choice.”

 

Sansa wasn't going to argue with him further, it was Christmas Eve, they'd just had some good sex, and she wasn't going to let anything ruin it. Until tomorrow at least. “Goodnight, Petyr,” she whispered and gave him one last kiss before sneaking silently back up the stairs. 

  
  
  
  


**December 25th, 2017. Christmas morning.**

  
  


Petyr had gotten up early, before all of the Starks. He had gotten dressed, made coffee, and was sitting on the sofa drinking it when the first of the kids began to wander downstairs towards all the presents under the tree. Sansa was one of the last down, looking rather groggy after their late night romp. He wondered how long she had laid awake wondering who had seen them fucking on the sofa. After everyone was downstairs and the adults had their own coffee in hand, Petyr had pretty much deducted who it was. Catelyn Stark had made little to no eye contact with him and when she did he could have sworn her cheeks had turned a shade more pink. To her credit, it appeared as though she had not told her husband what she had seen, or perhaps she too was waiting until after the Holiday so as not to spoil his jovial mood. Like mother, like daughter. Little did they know he was going to spoil it for them. 

 

He nervously toyed with the little, black box in his pocket as Cat announced that Ned would be passing out the presents. The younger children got theirs first and then Ned began to pass out to the older kids and the adults. The first one Petyr opened was from Ned and Cat, a set of ballpoints with his initials engraved in them.  _ Thoughtful. _ The next was from Lysa and when he fished the pair of red, silk boxers out of the tissue paper, she was watching avidly. 

 

“You can model them for me later if you like,” she said with a wink and it took everything in his power not to vomit. 

 

He shook his head, ignoring her and pretended to care what the others were opening. Sansa, Arya and Bran each got new laptops. Robin and Rickon new video game consoles.  Jon, the latest iphone. Robb Talisa had gotten a lot of couples stuff: a set of China, a set of towels, a set of cookware. Well, now at least Petyr knew what would be in store when he and Sansa were married.  _ Assuming she says yes.  _

 

“Petyr, this one's for you from, Sansa,” Catelyn said, handing him the small box because Ned was busy opening his own gifts now. Once again, no eye contact.

 

He took it with a smile and ripped at the paper as Sansa watched. Petyr was never one for over the top displays of emotion. In fact, he absolutely loathed opening gifts because of the expectation that he was supposed to show some sort of excitement, but when he looked at what he found inside the box he felt a swelling in his chest, a warm feeling that spread all over and he bit his bottom lip to fight a huge grin. 

 

“Do you like it?” she asked. 

 

“I love it. It's beautiful, Sweetling.” 

 

“What is it?” Ned grumbled. If he, or anyone, noticed Petyr's use of Sansa's nickname they said nothing.

 

“A watch. A very fine watch with a Mockingbird behind the hands.” 

 

“A mockingbird?” Lysa asked. “Because of the name of your club.”

 

“It's more than a name,” Sansa said pointedly. “Look at the back, Petyr.”

 

He took the watch out and flipped it over. Engraved on the back was: _ For My Mockingbird. Love Always, Your Wolf. _ She knew him too well. 

 

“Who still uses watches?” Bran spoke up. “We have smartphones.”

 

“I still use a watch,” Ned said defensively.

 

“It's an old guy thing,” Jon offered. 

 

Robb laughed. “Like dad and his paper news.”

 

_ Fantastic, let's all point out how old I am right before I propose to a twenty-something.  _ Oh well, they were going to think he was too old for her no matter what. 

 

Petyr put the watch on right away, setting his other gifts to the side, and his hand went back into his pocket, fumbling with the small box. Everyone was finishing up and he had not yet given Sansa his gift. It was now or never. She was going to kill him, he just knew it but in his mind there was no other way to do this. Why not make a splash? Start the new year out with a bang and all that. 

 

His heart was pounding as he stood up from the sofa and cleared his throat. Not because he was afraid of Ned Stark but because he feared she might say no, his boyish self-doubt, that he had thought long buried, ebbing its way to the surface. “Is there something you need, Baelish?” Ned asked.

 

“No. Not exactly. I have yet to give Sansa her gift and I have something I want to say.” He looked toward his love and she sat upright, her eyes wide and alarmed. She shook her head, pleadingly, as if to say  _ Petyr, please, not now. _ But it was too late, he had everyone's attention. 

 

Catelyn was shaking her head, her hand raised to her brow. “God, help us.” Petyr had been right, she knew. 

 

“Help us what?” Ned asked, confused.

 

“Let them tell you.”

 

Petyr crossed the room to where Sansa sat in an armchair. She looked absolutely mortified when he extended his hand to her and helped her to her feet. “Petyr, I can't believe you're doing this. We agreed.”

 

“We did but...I can't wait.” Her hands were trembling in his own and his were perspiring a little. Again, not from the fear of her family finding out about them but from the fact that he was about to propose. That he was about to let her know that he wanted her for however long she would have him and hopefully it would be until death did them part. All of the eyes in the room were now on them but he didn't care, he only cared about the blue pair looking at him expectantly. 

 

“Sansa, I love you.” Several people in the room gasped, a few cursed, and he was pretty sure Arya had laughed, but he ignored all of that and focussed solely on her. “I don't care who approves of our relationship and who doesn't. I want the world to know that I love you. That you are mine and above all, I am yours.”

 

“This is nonsense!” Ned burst out. “What is the meaning of this.”

 

“Daddy...shut up.” Sansa said smiling, her gaze not leaving Petyr's as tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes. 

 

“I never want to be without you,” Petyr continued. “I want to build a life with you. Have children with you. And build a home with you for those children. Which is why I want to ask…” He freed one of his hands from her grasp  and reached inside is pocket, pulling out the small black box. More words and gasps came from the room and went ignored. Except Sansa's.

 

“Petyr...oh my God…”

 

He opened the box as he dropped down to one knee, his heart beating rapidly against his chest. Years ago he had promised himself he would never end up in that position, much less propose at all. He had sworn off the entire notion of marriage. Until her. 

 

He took a deep breath. “Sansa Stark, I will love you for the rest of my life. Would you do me the honor of loving me for the rest of yours?”

 

Tears were running down her cheeks but she was smiling. “Yes. Yes.” 

 

“Thank, God,” he said, letting out the breath he was holding and jumping up to take her in his arms, kissing her for the very first time in front of her family. Petyr held onto her for the longest time, ignoring the chaos that had erupted around them. He didn't care about any of that. He was happy. Truly fucking elated and he wouldn't let it be spoiled. She said  _ yes. _

 

Lysa was yapping away about him being too old to marry her, echoed by Ned. Arya was laughing and taking pictures. The boys were laughing at her laughing. Petyr shut it all out.

 

“See...no one's dead,” he said. 

 

“No but my dad looks like his head is about to explode.”

 

“He’ll get over it. I'm going to take such good care of you. He’ll see. Merry Christmas, baby.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Petyr.”

 

And the Starks eventually did see. And a few years down the road they still gathered for Christmas and Ned and Catelyn were made grandparents by Petyr and Sansa and Robb and Talisa four times over and still counting. Ned never called Petyr son, what with their age difference not being too far off, but he finally stopped calling him Baelish. 

 

And they all lived happily ever after. Well, except for Lysa. She never quite got over it.

 

**The End**

* * *

 


End file.
